


Socks

by biswholocked



Series: 221s [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221, Cold Feet, Fluff, LITERALLY, Sleep, Socks, weird way of filling a prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1446706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biswholocked/pseuds/biswholocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has cold feet. Literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John was sleeping. The key word, as usual, being “was.” He felt himself being reluctantly dragged into wakefulness by someone settling down on the mattress, the extra weight forcing John to roll over slightly.

“Nmgph...Shelock, waddya doin,” he slurred, half asleep, the cobwebs of slumber still sticking to his mind. John could feel his flatmate curl up behind him and throw an arm over John’s side.

“It’s cold,” came the petulant answer, and John jumped slightly as a pinprick of ice nuzzled the back of his neck and two bloody _blocks_ of it wrapped themselves around John’s legs.

“Jesus,” John gasped. “You’re freezing.”

“Yes John. Brilliant observation.” Sherlock’s breath was hot in contrast to his nose.

“Why?” John mumbled, starting to fall back into sleep.

“Because its cold in the living room without you.”

“You….” John yawned and nestled further into the curve of Sherlock’s body behind him. “you should wear socks.”

“Why?” Sherlock’s voice was at a low whisper, and slower than usual. John’s mouth tipped up in a half smile-the detective would be asleep soon, hopefully.

“Because….” What had he been saying? Oh. Socks, right. “Because then your feet wouldn’t be sho cold.” He felt himself slip a little further into unconsciousness.

Sherlock hummed. “You’re slurring.”

“Shuddup nsleep.”

There was no reply except even breathing, and they slept.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Got you something.”

Sherlock looked up from the beakers at the sound of John’s voice in time to see him set a box down on the table. (Been out to the shops, stopped for a coffee, nervous-) Sherlock paused. Nervous? Yes, or agitated, he was doing that thing where he clenched his fingers. Sherlock turned his eyes to the box (plain, from a shop, boring, so why was he so worried?) and picked it up.

“Why?” he inquired, hand on the lid.

John shrugged stiffly. “Just..thought you’d need it.”

Sherlock pried the lid off to reveal a pair of socks. (Black, long enough to wear with a suit) Why was John getting him...ah. Climbing into bed with him-the socks were a deterrent.

“I have socks, John.” Sherlock could admit, to himself, that he was a bit disappointed. He’d liked having John’s warm body next to his, being able to feel his breathing.

“Well…” John looked down and shrugged again. “Maybe you’ll wear these. It would be nice.”

Sherlock nodded. “I apologize,” he started. “For..getting in your...space.”

John looked at Sherlock, confused. “No, no that’s not-” he paused, breathed, then looked at Sherlock (shyly?). “Sherlock, I don’t mind...us, sleeping. In the same bed. You’re feet are just cold.”

Sherlock blinked. “Oh.”

John smiled. “Yeah.”

Sherlock smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just kind of felt like this one needed a second part.

**Author's Note:**

> I may make a part two to this one, but I haven't decided yet. As usual, I am looking for prompts for these (just one word), so if there's something you had in mind, my [tumblr's](http://consultingamadman.tumblr.com/ask) open!


End file.
